


Tongue of the Devil

by nommunication



Series: I write ficlets to deal with feelings [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s07e15 Repo Man, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:58:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nommunication/pseuds/nommunication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer has a forked tongue, and Sam spends a little too long considering the inappropriate implications of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Sam's thoughts get away from him

**Author's Note:**

> I always figured I'd eventually end up writing some smut, but I didn't expect my first one to be like this. So er, go easy on the judging please?

Sam couldn’t get over it.

Lucifer had a forked tongue. An honest-to-God (ha) _forked_ tongue. Not a snake’s, but a human tongue split; a physical manifestation of Satan in a human vessel.  
Had it always been like that? Had he not noticed? Not that he particularly gave much attention to the tongue of the Devil, but you’d think you’d notice something like that.  
It was the way both parts moved independently that really creeped him out. It looked weird - must feel weird too. Man, imagine kissing that!

He did not just think that.

But what if?

How would that feel, to have that tongue in your mouth? To kiss a mouth like that? Normal at first when the mouths are still closed, sure, but as soon as the move is made to deepen the kiss, that first touch of tongue on the other person’s lips – but it would be two touches, two tongues almost. Working together or licking at the top lip and the bottom simultaneously?

Too freaky. Shudder.

Of course, that’s just the start.

It would be even weirder to be kissed with tongue – tongues? A tongue split in two, not snakelike but still snaking its way around your own; wrapping, pushing, stroking against your own from two sides. Would that feel good? Could that feel good?  Wouldn’t the innate wrongness of the sensation be repulsive? Surely. Probably.  
  
Could there ever be enough distraction to negate the repulsiveness? If it wasn’t just the feeling of the freakish tongue to focus on, if Lucifer was kissing someone with lips too, and teeth maybe - these other, still-human-feeling points of sensation would just feel good, not repulsive. And hands: if he were being touched, too? Held or stroked or a hand cupping his cheek; sensation to draw his thoughts away from the fact that the thing he was kissing had a forked tongue. Maybe then he wouldn’t mind.

Well, actually, Sam thinks he’d still be mainly focused on the feeling of _this tongue is forked this is unnatural._ The hands would need to be more distracting, tugging on his hair or nails dragging down with the slightest dig – the touches that promise more than mere kissing. Yeah, that could work – make the touching more sexual, more distracting and he’d be drawn away from what was happening between the mouths and less freaked out that Lucifer was kissing him with a forked tongue. Distract him near completely with a hand on his dick or a-

Oh god, what if that tongue was on his dick?

He’s fairly certain that in his mouth it’d be weird, being able to discern one too many things moving. He can’t deny that his dick isn’t exactly picky though - doesn’t process weird, only interprets every touch as pleasure. And with a tongue split in two the amount of touch would double, two points of contact, two different sensory feeds to process… would that mean the pleasure would double too? He rather thinks it would.

Yeah, he can concede that weird though the forked tongue is, he could probably quite enjoy being sucked off by Lucifer.

 

He definitely did not just think _that._

“I don’t want that, no, that’s not what I meant!” he exclaims to the empty space in front of him.

Behind him, he feels hands on his shoulders and a head leant in close to his ear.

“Say what you like, Bunk Buddy, but if you want me to believe you then you really ought not to think so loud.”


	2. In which Lucifer tests Sam's hypothesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> carrying straight on from where the last chapter ended. Speak of the Devil, and the Devil shall appear - and, uh, offer you head? that can't be right...

 

Sam’s first instinct is to flinch away from Lucifer but the hands on his shoulder grip tighter and stop the motion, holding him down in his chair.  Even the hallucination of an archangel is stronger than he is.

“I suppose I can’t exactly ask you to stay out of my head can I?”  
“You could ask, certainly. But it would be fruitless, not to mention rude.”

 _Because taking lodging in my mind isn’t rude at all,_ Sam thinks.

“Could you at least confine yourself to whichever corner you lurk in and not eavesdrop on my thoughts?”  
“Are you suggesting I would stoop so low as eavesdropping? Me?”  
“Yes.”  
“I’m offended.”  
“Oh, because stalking me in my dreams and then in my consciousness wasn’t a low stoop at all”  
“Ooh, touché”  
“Yes, so if you would kindly stop-“  
“Oh, but Sammy! If I stopped how would I know you’d been thinking these dirty little thoughts about me? Although, I would have been able to read the indications from your body rather clearly”  
“Indications?” Sam asks, though he is fairly sure of the answer.  
“You know, the raised heartbeat, dilated pupils, the way you shiver at the thought of my tongue.”

That same tongue is now tracing its way up the sensitive skin on the side of Sam’s neck and apparently it’s not just the thought that makes him shiver.

“I think you’re confusing shivering with shuddering in repulsion.”

Lucifer makes a contemplative noise, and then suddenly bites. Hard. And how does he even know that for Sam he’s basically just hit some neck-based erogenous zone that sends out a bolt of pleasure, making his breath rush outwards and his blood rush south and a delicious tremor run down his spine and -

“Definitely a shiver.” says the smug voice in his ear. “And it appears I have quite the effect on you, Bunk Buddy.”

Sam’s distracted brain processes that Lucifer’s hands are no longer on his shoulders. One has slid into his hair, gripping and holding his head back so that the other can slide down his chest and further, to his lap, and it’s when the hand is tugging his belt loose that his brain finally decides on coherency so he can splutter out,

“W-What are you doing?”  
“Your thoughts were very specific, Sam.”

Lucifer vanishes and reappears on the floor between Sam’s knees.

“You decided that my tongue would be most pleasurable when sucking you off.”

The belt’s being pulled out of its loops.

“That doesn’t mean I ever actually want you to do it! It was just the lesser of several evils!”

“You clearly want this.” He gestures at the bulge in Sam’s jeans before undoing the button.

“I can’t help it if my body is responding to touch - it’s been a while, okay?”

Sam hasn’t been laid since at least when he got his soul back. And he may not have a sexual appetite like Dean’s, but that’s still long enough to make him respond like this to something he doesn’t really want, right?

“Try that excuse on somebody whose ‘a while’ isn’t several millennia longer.” The sentence is punctuated by the sound of his zip.

 “Can’t you understand that just because I considered it in my head and my, ugh, sexually frustrated body may have responded this does not add up to me saying ‘yes, I want this’?”

Lucifer looks up.

“I thought I was all in your head, Sam. A Hallucination. You keep telling me so after all. So what’s the harm? You were interested in the idea,” – here he slides his tongue out as a reminder and somehow manages to make the damned thing seem seductive - “you even concluded it would probably feel good. Why not indulge in a slightly more vivid imagining? If I’m not real, then it’s just another hallucination.”

Sam’s pinned by his own logic, used against him to make this all seem reasonable and logical and acceptable and before he can try to form a counterargument he’s saying “Fine, yes, go on then.”

It might have had something to do with the hand sliding over the line of his erection.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Sam wants to try and change his answer but he finds himself being pushed up with unnatural speed and strength at the small of the back by one of Lucifer’s hands, his jeans and shorts being pulled over his hips by the other. As soon as they’re off he’s put down and Lucifer is back between his legs and with no warning his tongue is on him, running slowly up the hard length of his dick. And yes, you fucking can feel both points separately; twin trails of sensation that make his hands clench on the arms of the chair.

Before he reaches the really sensitive part at the head Lucifer suddenly changes tack, opening his mouth wider so that he can – and allow Sam a minor freakout here because it is official now. Lucifer is sucking his cock. Satan is giving him a blowjob. The Devil’s mouth is on his prick. His privates are being licked by Lucifer. His penis is - 

Lucifer chuckles and pulls off so he can say, “You have quite the range of vocabulary for male genitalia. Is that kind of thing entered in the thesaurus?”  
His breath is cool against damp, overheated skin and sends a shiver up Sam’s spine, but he feels vague irritation too.   
“If you’re gonna read my mind, at least do so without the commentary”  
Lucifer ignores him. “You know the old slang was my favourite. Always amused me to hear the gentleladies gossip about those quivering manhoods, how the temptation was oh so sinful…”  
“Oh, shut up already.”  
Though of course he doesn’t. And normally Sam would try and shove the person he’s shushing or put a hand over their mouth if they’re being this annoying, but his body is one incriminating step ahead and decides to use the part of him which is closest to Lucifer’s mouth to do the job.  
He feels betrayed as his hips push forward – he will not say thrust – but it does work. Lucifer’s lips are startled still as they close on the tip of his dick instead of each other. It works - until Lucifer looks Sam in the eye and the glint there tells him he has most definitely just lost a battle.  
“Too impatient to bother with denial now are we, Bunk Buddy?”  
No way is Sam answering that. He tries to ignore the only-just-there-but-really-fucking-noticeable feel of lips as Lucifer talks, wills his body to be still under the sensation.  
“Oh no, don’t you suppress your demanding side, now. I rather –like it”

The word “like” is formed with an exaggerated curl of tongue, forked points going way beyond the boundary of the lips and Sam’s hips buck up in reaction and Lucifer at least shifts back this time, if only so he can finish his sentence. There is no way now he can say that he doesn’t want this.

“Get on with it.” he demands, because fuck it - he might as will enjoy the ride he’s landed on.

Lucifer makes a low growl at that, quiet but edged with something more than human.

After that, Sam’s world narrows to lips and mouth and the slightest pain-pleasure edge of teeth but most of all _forked tongue forked tongue forked tongue._

And Sam knows this Lucifer isn’t real, that it’s just a hallucination, all in his head, but – god – it certainly feels real enough. It’s bringing a disturbing new literality to the phrase ‘mind-fucked’.

He can feel the tension building, heat curling in his abdomen and nerve endings sparking with electric sensation. One hand is still clench-unclenching on the arm of the chair but the other is on the back of Lucifer’s head, trying to grip his short hair and forgetting you’re not supposed to push because of course archangels don’t have a gag reflex. Everything has started merging into one sensation but he can just discern through the haze of pleasure the feeling of three motions on his dick – hand, lips and forks of the tongue working together. Then the tongue flicks and it does _something_ and everything peaks and Sam’s brain short circuits.

 

+++

 

“Why?”

Sam’s still in the chair. He got as far as redressing, shuffling underwear and jeans back over legs and hips, though he hasn’t bothered to do anything up. The looseness of the afterglow is fading as the realisation of what actually just happened comes sweeping back in.

Lucifer’s perched himself on the desk, a foot on the chair there and a smug smirk that Sam has seen far too much by now on his face.

“Why not?” Lucifer counters.  
“No, seriously, why?”  
“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that? I’m your hallucination aren’t I?”  
Sam doesn’t know how to respond to that.  
“See, that’s the beauty of it. You’re so intent on believing I’m a figment of your imagination, that you have control over me or can at least send me away. But if you believe that then you have to believe that you let me do this, that you _wanted_ me to. And oh! The internal conflict is wonderful to watch. I don’t even need to be in your head to see the sexual identity crisis unfolding over your face. And after that the ‘oh-god-it’s-Lucifer’ crisis, with a nice twist as that reminds you of this little-” – Lucifer curls out the forked tongue in mock-seduction - “-kink you just indulged in.  And finally, there’s a large dose of the classic ‘I’ve-let-down-my-brother’ angst. With minimal input from my part you’re torturing yourself!”

Sam tries to make a comeback, any comeback.  
“Minimal input? You were making quite the effort for ‘minimal input’.”  
Maybe staying quiet would have been better.

“Minimal comparative to the rewards, Sam. This is going to be the gift that keeps on giving. When your brother comes back you’ll try and shunt this and me to the back of your mind, pretend like everything’s fine and nothing happened – but you certainly aren’t going to forget. Even if you try ignoring me again, you’ll still see me. You’ll be sitting there casually listening to Dean blather on about some banal topic and all I have to do is smile at you and you’ll remember _exactly_ where my mouth has been. Then all this emotional conflict will come rushing back along with the memory of how ‘oh so good’ it felt. And I’ll have the pleasure of watching you squirm.”

Sam really doesn’t know how to respond to that. He glares. Lucifer gets up and makes to leave the room.

“I have to say this really was my best idea yet.”


End file.
